


blossoming

by racheljessop



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: (bliss and referenced additional drugs), Angst, Blood and Injury, Drug Use, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Nudity, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Rating May Change, Sexual References, drug overdose, tags to change as i upload more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27595436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/racheljessop/pseuds/racheljessop
Summary: a series of faith/tracey oneshots done for tumblr prompts.
Relationships: Tracey Lader/Faith Seed
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. opia

**Author's Note:**

> decided to upload some of the faith/tracey prompts i did on tumblr here

[prompt:](https://ask-meme-addicts.tumblr.com/post/131175287021/obscure-feelings-drabble-prompt-meme) Opia: The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

* * *

“Hey, open em up. C’mon, look at me, Rach.” 

Tracey grasped at the sides of the girl’s face, attempting to hold her head up. “Faith!” She corrected herself, shouting the name into her face in hopes it would better get through to her, “You can do it, open those eyes for me, Faith.” 

Faith dropped her head back to plop against the tree trunk she was propped against, “Nnhhhm,” she mumbled in disagreement and protest. 

“Shit,” Tracey cursed, putting a protective hand at the back of the other woman’s head and holding her up again, feeling the tangles in her fine blonde hair as she did. 

Tracey had thought Faith was another dead body to collect when she first stumbled across her in the woods on her regular patrol. After that, when she got close enough to realize the body was still twitching with life, she thought she was an Angel. No, not the descended from heaven type, the overdoses on your lawn and you have to watch them die because you’re the only person around and there’s no saving them anyways type. 

When she got close enough to make out enough features of the shivering body in the grass to see it was _the_ Faith Seed, she’d assumed it was a hallucination. She instinctively dove at the figure in attack, thinking on contact it would disappear in a cloud of mist like all the others. 

She was instead greeted by the very solid impact of a warm body beneath her own when she landed, and a groan of pain in a very familiar voice. _Fuck._ She looked down to see the very real body she was now straddling was still very much there, very much still undeniably her former friend, and very much in trouble, barely conscious and reeking of too much bliss. 

Tracey felt panic. She hadn’t seen, really _seen_ in what she was sure was her actual, physical form and not a hallucination, Rachel or Faith or whoever the blonde girl was, in years. Tracey would tell herself that distance, the shock of seeing and feeling her in person, was what caused her to go on autopilot. To try to talk the other woman through her high to safety like she had back in the old days, on the all too often occasions she’d found Rachel collapsed in her room after having taken too much of something. Before the cult or the bliss or any of this. 

“Hey!” She yelled, encouraged that the body in her arms was at least responsive enough to flinch at the volume, “You gotta wake up, you gotta stay with me, okay?!” 

She grumbled again as Tracey shook her by the shoulders, her head flopping limply as she did. “Hey!” Tracey screamed so loud she heard her own panicked voice echo back at her through the woods. 

She felt only momentary relief when Faith’s eyes did finally open in response, revealing unfocused, misty pools of blue green, pupils barely visible. She stared directly at Tracey, but it was obvious to her the expressionless girl did not see her. Any vision she was perceiving was not the reality in front of her. Tracey felt an odd sense of embarrassment watching the woman’s eyes flicker and try to adjust as she let out small whimpers like an ill child. Like she’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to. No one was ever supposed to see the sick and suffering young woman behind the ethereal image of Faith Seed, Herald of Angels. Least of all her ex-friend. It somehow made Tracey feel guilty for finding her like this, and certainly for continuing to stare into aqua eyes. She looked away. 

The moment she did Faith mumbled a single word, barely audible, before heavy eyelids fell again. “Heaven?” She slurred. 

Tracey nervously played with the woman’s blonde hair in an attempt at comfort as she spoke, “No, no. You’re still here Faith, but you gotta stay awake for me.” 

Nonverbal grumble, and Faith went limp in her arms again. 

“Fuck!” Tracey cursed in defeat. If someone would have been around to ask her, Tracey would have said what she did next was autopilot as well, a thoughtless and conditioned response to seeing a victim of a bliss overdose collapse in front of her. But if she was being honest with herself, as she grabbed the heavy syringe always stored in her jacket pocket for these situations, the knowledge that this was one of Joseph Seed’s treasured and most powerful “family members” and the very inventor of the drug poisoning the land of Hope County she was about to give the life saving medication in limited supply to was all too conscious in her mind as she stabbed the needle into the woman’s leg and pushed down on the plunger. 

Faith yelped and grasped at Tracey’s arms in reaction to the sting, burying her face in Tracey’s chest. Tracey felt relief at hearing her breath picking up and evening as the antidote began working its way through her system. She dropped the syringe to the ground and cradled her friend in her arms. 

“You’re doing great, keep coming back to me. Breathe.” 

Faith followed her words, inhaling and exhaling to synch her breathing with that of her savior. Tracey finally felt her pull back again, leveling her face with hers before finally opening her eyes again, this time voluntary. 

“Tracey?” She asked in a voice still small and confused. 

She was obviously still not all there, but there was no denying now that her eyes fully perceived the woman in front of her, staring back. Tracey was all too aware the other could see her clearly, pupils focused and locked on hers unwaveringly. The embarrassment crept back up, but this time, with aqua depths peering back into her own eyes, Tracey felt as if she was the one who had exposed too much of herself, parts better kept hidden. Just as she felt like she couldn’t stand the pressure of her old friend’s gaze any longer, Faith broke the eye contact, wrapping her arms around Tracey’s neck and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. 

“I knew you’d come. You always help me.” 

Tracey rubbed comforting circles on the girl’s back and lowered her eyes to the ground, at the place the grass was still flattened where the woman she held’s unconscious body had lain. “Yeah, I came.” 

Faith nuzzled against her neck. “Does Joseph know?” And the name made Tracey feel nauseous. “Am I in trouble? Is it…?” 

Tracey felt her eyes sting with tears, closing lids tight to stop them from escaping. She ran her fingers through blonde locks, pulling out tangles. “No, nobody knows, you’re alright, buttercup. You’re safe.” 

Faith gave a pleased hum in response. 

“But you gotta get up now, okay? You gotta get back to wherever you’re supposed to be right now. Can you stand up for me?” She hoped Faith’s ears weren’t as sharp as her eyes seemed to be, that she couldn’t hear the way her voice quivered. 

Faith nodded and pulled away, steadying herself against the tree behind her before rising to her feet. 

“Good, now can you walk for me?” 

Faith’s brow furrowed in concentration as she willed her legs to move in small steps, focusing on making a straight line, one foot in front of the other. 

“Now you know where you’re going?” 

Her blonde head bobbed up and down in affirmation as she kept moving, and Tracey did her best not to think about how she was letting the resistance’s most wanted walk from her defenseless position back to some Project fortress. 

Before finally disappearing into the trees, Faith turned around and locked eyes with her friend one last time, and Tracey bubbled with insecurity over the tears she was sure were visible in her own. 

“Thank you, always.” She chimed before turning back around, continuing along her path and out of Tracey’s sight. 


	2. rain

[prompt:](https://alwayskaysanova.tumblr.com/post/111909165950/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”

* * *

Tracey held tight onto the slender hand grasping her own as they walked through the brush and spindly remnants of trees that now counted as the woods, scorched and too brittle twigs littering the ground snapping to dust easily beneath her boots. 

It had been over five years now since the bombs dropped. Turning to see Faith at her side, beaming wide-eyed as she took in the landscape, Tracey was struck anew with the gravity of it all. Not of the nuclear wasteland they now inhabited, but of a worse possibility that didn’t come to bear. She couldn’t shake the feeling that with a slightly different twist of fate, she’d have lost the woman at her side forever, and would be wandering the skeletons of forests and former towns with nothing but her own bitterness and resentment at her side. 

She distracted herself from those thoughts for now by pulling her companion’s hand to her lips for a soft kiss, earning an equally gentle and reassuring smile from Faith in response. In contrast to the landscape, Faith looked as healthy and alive as Tracey had ever seen her – eyes clear and bright in the sunlight, thick, shiny waves of long blonde hair tied loosely at her side, skin clear and radiant and flushed only with excitement. She was a visual reminder of the rebirth and growth that was possible from the destruction that befell Hope County. 

Which was good, Tracey thought, because there sure as hell wasn’t a lot else about the landscape to inspire hope. This was the fourth time in five years they’d been above ground. Everyone in the bunker did their best to space shifts out by months and vary the search parties so no one got too much exposure to the lingering radiation at once. 

“Usual nothin’.” Tracey remarked. 

“Always so _negative_ ,” Faith teased, swinging the arm that held her partner’s hand as a sign for her to pick up the pace as well as her mood, “We’ve only been walking for twenty minutes.” 

“Doubt the scenery is changing much on minute twenty-one.” Tracey looked up to the sky, where clouds had begun to block out the already dull sunlight. “In fact, I think it’s just getting darker.” 

“Just appreciate the fact that it _is_ scenery,” Faith retorted while tapping her finger against the tip of Tracey’s nose playfully. Tracey snaked her arms around the woman’s waist in response, pulling her close before picking her up off the ground lightly and swinging her in a quick circle, making her giggle. 

“I’ll appreciate the fact we’re alone with some goddamn space for once.” She granted her, before placing kisses against lips still curved with laughter. Faith’s giggles turned to hums as she kissed her, and Tracey barely heard the rumbling of thunder roll in, until a harsh crack of lightning punctuated it. 

Tracey pulled back. “See what happens when you try to be optimistic?” Faith rolled her eyes. “C’mon, there’s a house a little bit east of here, closer than heading back to base. Let’s hope it’s still standing.” Tracey pulled the girl along without waiting for a response, running hand in hand in a race against the gathering storm clouds. 

At the dilapidated house they finally reached, the porch was the only part still standing, but seemingly sturdily enough that Tracey continued to drag her partner up to it for shelter. Faith, however, paused at the steps, only partially covered by the awning as rain began to sprinkle. 

Tracey tugged again at her arm. “Hey, c’mon, outside roof still looks solid.” 

Faith stayed glued to her spot on the steps. “Tracey, _rain_.” 

“Uh huh. You’re an excellent weather girl, now please get under the cover.” 

“No, Tracey, _real_ rain.” Faith repeated herself, holding a hand out to catch the water falling with increasing pace from the sky, tentatively reaching to stretch her entire arm out beyond the awning. 

“Are you trying to die?” Another clap of thunder, and rain splashing against the roof in a crescendo. 

“It’s _rain_ , Tracey,” Faith said again with a smile, turning to see Tracey’s skeptical and confused face. 

Faith walked up the final steps. Tracey barely had time to look relieved before Faith grabbed the corners of her shirt to pull and toss over her head, landing on the concrete of the porch. She quickly followed suit with her shorts and sneakers. 

Tracey stared wide-eyed. “Hey, I know I said I was grateful to be alone, but I don’t really wanna mess around on this dirty fuckin’ porch.” 

Faith ran back down the steps to stand bare before her, water falling in fat drops against her head and shoulders, soaking through her golden hair and cascading down her skin, along her exposed curves. She held her arms to the pouring heavens. “It’s _rain_! Come feel it!” 

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” Tracey shouted back. 

“It’s _rain_!” Faith replied simply, over the roar of the falling water, tilting her head up to catch drops in her mouth.

“Hey, are you fuckin’ crazy?!” Tracey shouted louder. 

Faith twirled before cupping her hands around her face to yell back at the woman still on the porch. “It’s _real_ , _normal_ rain! No weird soot in it, no gross smell, no burning! Just rain! How long has it been since we’ve been up here to see _any_ rain?” She undid the tie around her hair and ran her fingers through it like she was in a shower, letting the rain soak in every strand. “And you said we wouldn’t have anything good to report back. This is real rain!” 

Realization slowly dawned on Tracey, and she took a tentative step off the porch and into the falling rain. It felt cool and refreshing against her skin, and the smell in the air evoked memories of fresh rain showers from long ago rather than the nuclear storms she’d grown used to. Her face broke out in a smile, and she walked through the mud towards Faith. 

“Rain.” She conceded with a nod. The blonde threw her arms around her with a laugh and nuzzled into her neck, kissing up and down, then stepping back to look at her, wrists still propped against her shoulders. 

Faith pulled at the now soaked through fabric of Tracey’s shirt. “Now you’re going to be wet the whole walk back,” she chided, “You’re far _too impulsive_ , Tracey.” 

Tracey chuckled at her, leaning down to press her forehead against the other woman’s, damp skin against damp skin and strands of wet hair tangling together as she dipped her slightly to kiss her, lips soft and smooth from skin drinking in the fresh rainwater. Tracey tasted her lover and the rain still pouring down on them as she opened her mouth, both equally refreshing and invigorating against her tongue. 

They would wait out the rest of the storm in each other’s arms before returning back home, huddled together in silence on the porch, watching the drops fall and listening as the pattering against the roof and ground grew softer. Tracey couldn’t say what new world would greet them in the coming years, if it would flourish or remain barren, but with Faith by her side, she already felt reborn in a land teeming with life and beauty.


	3. hate

[prompt:](https://alwayskaysanova.tumblr.com/post/111909165950/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you) “I wish I could hate you”

* * *

Not a single soul among the Hope County Cougars questioned Tracey’s refusal to take a shift watching over the newly deposed, not to mention indisposed, Faith Seed. Hell, half of them had done the same thing when they first saw Deputy Rook dragging her bloodied and blissed out body through the front doors of the prison. And if Rook hadn’t saved their asses, they probably would have all refused. 

But even when the more vocal dissenters settled down at Rook’s insistence, no one tried to assign Tracey a shift. They all knew the girls’ history, and no one was touching that. It would be bad enough to expect Tracey to take a shift just guarding her cell, and right now Faith wasn’t only a prisoner in need of guarding, she was a patient coming down from the bliss trip of all bliss trips. The resistance had to give her the same medical treatment they’d been trained to give all the innocent victims of _her_ bliss, plus more with all her injuries. No, no way would anyone dare ask Tracey to do that. 

And Tracey sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about it. She even managed to actually stay away like she was expected to, for three whole days. But on day three, it was Rook herself watching the little Seed sister. And Rook knew more about Tracey than most. Most importantly, Tracey knew Rook understood the importance of privacy and discretion, and that things could be complicated, especially with one of the Seeds. 

So the last hour of Rook’s shift, Tracey slipped from her bed through the hallways to the solitary confinement cell doubling as a makeshift hospital room, peering through the door to make sure it was still her on the clock before slipping in.

Rook didn’t turn around as she greeted her. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Tracey parroted, Rook not seeming at all surprised at whose voice greeted her, continuing to stare forward. Tracey shifted her gaze to follow Rook’s eyeline, looking through the bars of the old cell to see Faith laid out, still as death, on the old hospital gurney shoved in the cramped space. Even from this distance, Tracey could see it was obvious the members of the resistance hadn’t cared for Faith any more than was medically necessary. She was changed from her lacy frock to a hospital gown and tucked under the covers, but her blonde hair was still in tangles at the sides of her face, which was coated with patches of dried blood cracking and peeling off slowly.

“How’s she holdin’ up?” 

“About the same,” Rook shrugged. “Hasn’t woken up, still gonna be on heavy sedatives for the next few days. Just gotta wait and see. Due an IV change in a few.” 

Tracey nodded. “I can take care of it, give you a break. Sure as shit changed enough IVs around here.” 

Rook raised an eyebrow, but didn’t look at Tracey. “Yeah, sure, thanks.” She tossed Tracey the key to the cell and made her way to the door. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” 

Tracey nodded in gratitude. She understood the unspoken promise that Rook wasn’t protecting Tracey from Faith, but the both of them from everyone else. 

Tracey unlocked the cell door and made her way to the IV stand without glancing again at the woman in the bed. She took the shriveled and nearly empty bag from its hook, unscrewing the plastic tubing and picking up the full bag on top of the medical supply cart to replace it. She stood there for a long moment after, watching the drip of the clear liquid, still not looking towards the bed. 

She couldn’t ignore the ache in her chest when she finally did. Rachel, Faith, whoever, had never looked more like a ghost. It wasn’t just the grime still covering her hair and skin, she was damaged more deeply. Dark bruises hung in half moons under her eyes, her nose was swollen and decorated from the nostrils down with red-brown flakes memorializing the blood that had gushed from it, blending with similar trails of red from the small lacerations covering her face. In the parts not swollen from injury, her face was emaciated and pale. Her hair was thin and clumped in knots around stray pieces of twigs and grass. 

“You look like shit.” Tracey remarked to the unconscious girl, to no one. 

She sighed in frustration. Someone had to fucking deal with this, she told herself, she was disgusting to look at. Tracey rummaged through the drawers on the supply cart to dig out one of the small hygiene bags previously given to new prisoners, stocked with a tiny toothbrush, a comb, soap, and a small washcloth. She sat herself at the cot to the girl’s side and unscrewed the cap from a small water bottle laid there, wetting the cloth and dabbing it against the bar of soap then rubbing gentle circles along the girl’s face, the blood slowly gumming up before being brushed away.

She barely even noticed the small groans that came from the unconscious girl at first, when she trailed the washcloth along particularly deep cuts, but soon they were hard to ignore. And when Faith’s eyelids began to flutter, so did Tracey’s heart. It was pounding when she actually opened them fully. 

“Tracey?” She asked, voice soft and hoarse. 

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty.” She trained her eyes on the spot on the girl’s forehead she was cleaning, not daring to look into her eyes.

“Am I dead?” 

“Not right now,” Tracey answered coolly, swiping the cloth along the girl’s lips to clean blood caked at the sides, and hopefully quiet her. 

“Where am I?” She finally asked, looking around the room without moving her head. 

“Jail.” Tracey sat the damp washcloth back on the tray and picked at a mat of hair.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asked, voice trembling from fear and disuse. 

“Not tonight, buttercup.” Tracey said sarcastically, pulling out a twig nested in blonde hair and throwing it to the floor. 

“What are you doing?” Faith asked as Tracey picked more debris. 

“Cleaning you up.” Tracey answered with curt literalness. 

“Why?” 

“Someone’s gotta do it.” Her words were harsh and biting, but her hands were gentle and careful as they ran the washcloth along blonde locks, removing as much dirt as she could. She worried even the gentle pull of the cloth smoothing over the thin strands was too much as she saw tears begin to well in aqua eyes. 

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” She asked, small and sniffling. 

Tracey didn’t answer, but she wiped the tears from under her eyes before returning to her work on her hair, careful fingers pulling apart clumps. 

“Do you hate me?” She asked with a whimper. 

Tracey scoffed. “I wish I could hate you,” she answered honestly, vulnerability concealed with venom as she spat out the words. She took the comb and placed it at the roots of Faith’s hair, slowly working down in delicate motions, pulling through remaining tangles. Tracey sighed. “But I’m here, aren’t I?” 

Faith gave the tiniest curve of her lips and closed her eyes. “That feels good,” she mumbled, as Tracey continued to run the comb through her hair. 

They sat in silence for a while, and Tracey wondered if the girl had drifted back to sleep until she spoke once more. “Do you think we could ever be friends again?” 

Tracey tugged at her hair in response, a little harder than before, but not enough to really hurt. “Looking for a prison pen pal or something?” 

Faith gave a quiet grumble and relaxed again into silence. Tracey sat the comb down, working fingers to smooth now straightened golden tresses against the pillow. She was pleased with her work, the girl’s hair was still stringy, dull, and missing clumps, but it was in neat parts and cleaner than before. Tracey kept her fingers there, continuing to play absentmindedly with blonde locks. 

Faith’s eyes opened again, and she moved for the first time, raising a shaky hand to Tracey’s cheek. “I never stopped loving you,” she spoke in a sob, “I tried, too. But I could never stop loving you. I don’t know if that makes a difference.” 

Tracey didn’t speak, but disentangled her fingers from blonde hair to rest over the still trembling hand on her face. “I don’t know either,” she mused, “But I guess we’re in the same boat there.” 

Faith hummed before closing her eyes back and rolling her head to the side, finally letting the morphine lull her back to sleep. Tracey wrapped fingers around the now limp hand pressed against her cheek, giving it a soft kiss before lowering it back to tuck under the thin covers. 

Tracey sighed and stood up, locking the door back with a clink of metal before walking out to hand the key to Rook, who stood leaning at the side of the door. 

“All yours,” Tracey said as she dropped the key in the Deputy’s hand. 

“Thanks,” Rook responded, twirling the key then pocketing it as Tracey walked to leave.

“I’m on duty again next Tuesday,” Rook called as she reached the end of the hallway, “Just so you know.” 

Tracey smiled. “Thank you,” she said with sincerity, wiping tears from her eyes as she turned the corner. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @adelaidedrubman


End file.
